Tuesday, 20 December 2011

The cherry ball on the mercury stick drops off at three zero Off to the left the iridescent glow of the sea glances Gold and hard in the thin indifferent sun Ah and all the green and growing things wonder what hit them Nasturtium hibiscus and clover shriveling Noiseless as fear in a wide wilderness This silent blast from the polar freezer fuses Leaf arteries into obelisks of bright glass

Frozen Filipendula bush: photo by Kallerna, 10 November 2004 Frost on a nettle, The Netherlands: photo by Loranchet, 23 October 2007; image by Vincent van Zeijst, 1 August 2008

Ah, nettles--right now the ones growing between my rows of green onion (whose leaves we sacrifice for salads)are about 5" high and soon they--along with other wild greens--will be filling my wife's home-made crust and then plopped in the oven for a great veggie pitta. When they get too high and can fight back, I cut them down and put them in the compost pile--great source of nitrogen.

not quite THAT cold here this morning (big green nasturtium leaves next to house not shriveled) but it was plenty chilly out there in the channel, first edge of sun rising above ridge about as far sound as it's going to get this year. Meanwhile, another orange edge of cloud "illumination" --

Your blog is an education in itself. I am happy to be in your class and sit in on these offerings, discussions, and presentations. I wish I could respond impressively or majestically. This is a special place to go to for lots of reasons. Peace and good thoughts. Very stimulating. Thank you so much.

Thanks very much, that's sweet of you to say. There's no pleasure like giving pleasure to others. It's for that reason I do this blog.

Curtis Faville,

Think about this.

The poems posted on this blog over the past thirty days have all been written by poets (Giuseppe Ungaretti, George Seferis, Stevie Smith, Nizar Qabbani, Bill Deemer, and Charles Deemer, Thomas Hardy, Jim Dine, Ed Sanders, among others) who got better with time, had the courage to stick to their guns.

I think in all cases named, the artistic quality got better and better no matter the body may have done otherwise. Even fallen to pieces.

Also, think about this.

If reading poems by poets who are not young bothers you, what are you doing here?